fencing,” Rohan said disapprovingly, “in the common room. With rolls of paper as weapons.”

“That sounds fun,” Adam said, his voice small.

“Well, we’re not invited,” Henry said.

And then there was a knock at their window, and Adam nearly toppled off his chair.

Outside the window stood a ghostly figure in white, its hand groping blindly against the glass.

Henry laughed. “It’s Frankie,” he said, crossing to open the window.

“Hello,” Frankie said, grinning. “Or should I say ‘Boo’?”

“Very funny,” Adam muttered.

“Can I come in? I brought lemon cake.”

“It’s against the rules,” Rohan said haughtily.

“Blast the rules,” Frankie said. “Did I mention the cake has meringue on top?”

“Against the rules,” Rohan repeated.

“Then go study in the library,” Henry said.

“No, I’ll stay,” Rohan said in a long-suffering sort of tone, and then turned to Frankie. “I’m Rohan, by the way.”

“I know,” Frankie said, still poised on the windowsill. “And that’s Adam. Henry’s told me all about you.”

“Do you need a leg up, fair damsel?” Adam asked, a silly grin on his face as he gallantly extended a hand.

“Oh, save it for someone who cares,” Frankie said, boosting herself onto the window ledge. There was a muffled rip. “Petticoats again,” she moaned.

“There is a girl in our room,” Rohan announced to no one in particular, “with ripped petticoats.”

“Must be your lucky day,” Frankie said, landing with a thud. “So who was the boy I smacked with my glove?”

“Fergus Valmont,” the boys chorused.

“What a name.” Frankie made a face. “He even sounds horrible.”

“He’s Lord Havelock’s nephew,” Henry said.

“That would explain the resemblance,” she said, unwrapping a large piece of cake.

Adam stared at it longingly.

“Would you like a slice?” Frankie asked patiently.

“Yes, please,” Adam said.

“Well, you’ll have to win it,” Frankie said, pulling out a deck of cards. “Anyone for poker?”

Rohan put his face in his hands.

“There is a girl in our room …, ” he began again.

“Yes, yes, with ripped petticoats and gambling,” Frankie said dismissively. “So you’ve said. Now you can sit down here on the nice floor and play a civilized game of cards, or you can go out there and whack around a paper stick like a barbarian.”

Rohan sat.

“I shouldn’t warn you,” he said, “but I’m rather good at cards.”

“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t,” Frankie said, shuffling the deck with an expert snap!

“I have a different bet,” Adam said.

Everyone stared at him.

“If I win this hand,” he told Frankie, “you and I fence a match tomorrow after chapel.”

Frankie grinned. “Think you’re up to it, suitor boy?”

Adam didn’t flinch at Frankie’s mocking nickname. “Absolutely.”

“We’ll fence foil,” Frankie said decisively. “Easier to limit the strike zone.”

“Done. Now deal,” Adam said.

Frankie dealt.

And she lost. Badly.

“Ha!” Adam crowed. “I win! Foil. Tomorrow morning.”

“Of course,” Frankie said calmly, shuffling the deck. “Why do you think I threw the hand?”

“You lost on purpose?” Rohan asked.

“That’s what I said.” Frankie smiled. “It was a good bet to lose. I wanted to fence you tomorrow morning.”

After the bet was won—or lost, in Frankie’s case—they settled in to properly play cards, and it was a good time all around. Frankie wasn’t half bad, nor Adam. Rohan was rather good, and Henry held his own, as Sander had often bullied him to play when he first started working at the Midsummer School.

They played for hours, munching on the cake rather than betting on it, and suddenly their slope-ceilinged room was quite cozy. The noise from the common room, rather than serving as a reminder that they weren’t allowed to join in, made Henry, Adam, and Rohan very smug indeed. They were breaking the rules. They had a secret. And—there was no question of it now—they had best friends to share it with.

THE FORBIDDEN FENCING MATCH

The next morning, Adam was the first one awake and dressed for chapel.

“Get up!” he yelled, pouncing on Henry’s bed.

“Aaahhh!” Henry shouted, bolting upright, his heart pounding frantically. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Adam said contritely. “But guess what today is?”

“Bloody Saturday,” Rohan groaned. “So let me sleep.”

“The moment of truth!” Adam said. “The greatest fencing match of them all.”

Adam kept this up all through chapel, where he bounced in his seat so vigorously that Edmund leaned over from the pew behind theirs and asked him if he needed to use the toilet.

Frankie caught up with Henry after chapel. She carried a large sewing basket and wore a satin ribbon in her hair.

Henry tried and failed to suppress a smile.

“Lovely day for embroidery,” he commented, only to be whacked rather hard with the sewing basket.

“I’ve hidden my fencing kit inside,” Frankie whispered.